Coping with fear
by dramioneshipper1999
Summary: Hermione has changed, after the war she is hurt, deeply hurt, her soul is scarred forever. She returns to Hogwarts so as to repeat her seventh year and comply her role as Head Girl. Little did she know that a certain blond-headed slytherin would be Head Boy...
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note: so first, I am NOT english, therefore I may make some mistakes. Please notify them to me, and don't be to hard. Constructive criticism is accepted, but please don't be hateful. So here we are, another new story. It struck me while I was having a shower and I have some darn good plans for this story. Also please mind that this is rated M for a reason, so if you have a sensitive mind, don't read this. You have been warned fellow. It is rated M for mild-swearing, triggers, self-harm and some adult themes suggested.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I only own the plot, saddly :3**

 **Anyway, now on with the story.**

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 ** _"I wish I were a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free."_**

 _ **\- Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë-**_

Hermione sat on the furthest compartment of the train, far away from her fellow classmates. Nor Ron or Harry where coming to Hogwarts this year, they were on their way to become Aurors. Not that it mattered anyway, they hadn't spoken to her in weeks. Nevertheless she was truly happy for them, se really was.

Harry had married Ginny weeks after the Final Battle, and now the red-haired witch was three months pregnant or so. She was the only one who kept her on a friend basis, and she was really greatful for that.

Things with Ron after the War hadn't gone as well as she expected. She had a crush on him for like forever, but their chemistry soon went down after a few weeks. He ditched her after two months being with her and one month cheating her, with none other than the stupid bint, Pansy Parkinson. He blamed her for their break up. He told her that she was a prude, that she was a fucking stupid bitch who was too ugly for "a man as dashing as him", and that se was fat, bossy and annoying. With that he left. He left forever. And Harry went with him this time, this time no one stood up for her, only Gin, but even that didn't make a difference, because her long-life friends, her "brothers-in-heart-but-not-in-blood" left her. They left her bloody alone. She had to have something done to deserve that, didn't she?

And that's how all went to hell. She fell in depression. She cut her wrists, feeling guilty, guilty, guilty. Her arms and hips were scarred now, pain wretched her body and she trembled in her train compartment. She trembled because she feared Hogwarts, she trembled because she feared to remember.

God forgive her, for she has sinned.

One month, two weeks, and five days ago she was admitted in The Clinic. During her depression she had lost loads of weight, and one day someone found her in a motel room in muggle London with her wrists covered with blood and unconsciuous. She had taken pills before doing that. She had numbed herself before attempting to kill herself, because she was worthless, worthless, worthless, she was nothing more than a dead heart living in a breathing body. So someone found her, they called a ambulance, and the admitted her in The Clinic.

The Clinic was a muggle hospital. The Clinic was a place where you learnt to be happy, happy, happy. The Clinic was a place were they taught you how perfect, perfect, perfect life was and that you had to live this perfect happy happy life. Her room there was black and white. Black cieling, white floor, white walls. A black desk, a white chair, a white bed, a black leather diary.

She was not allowed to have books. She was not allowed to have sharp objects in her room. She was not allowed to have her own clothes. She was not allowed to wear or have necklaces or any other piece of jewelry such as bracelets, earrings, etc. She was not allowed to listen to music. She was not allowed to watch T.V. She was not allowed to use the shower or loo without a nurse's supervision. She was not allowed to go outside.

They fed her pills. Loads of pills. Happy pills. One blue with breakfast, two whites with lunch, one orange with dinner. Her wrists had bandages. Her hips healed fast, her wrists would be scarred forever. The word Mudblood was now illegilable with so many thin lines covering it. They stuffed her, she felt like a turkey on Thanksgiving day, but that didn't matter to them. She ate, ate, ate. She was being a good girl.

She talked with the doctors, told them what they wanted to hear, she smiled when they wanted her to smile, she cried when they wanted her to cry. She was making progress, she was being a very, very, very good girl.

No one came to visit her to The Clinic. She disappeared for one month and a half and no one noticed. It wasn't surprising.

They released her. Finally they released her. She was to have an appointment with a psycologist each week but she never went to one session. She moved flats. She lived in the city now, in a small flat with Crookshanks.

When they released her she was healthy, or so they said. She went back to a normal weight. She was happy, or she was supposed to be.

When they released her she went to the city and never left her room. Darkness sorrounded her, and crept in every other night. She would smoke sometimes. She would drink more than sometimes. She would continue to write with a knife every day, there was so much bare flesh in her body!

She had nightmares, she never slept. She smoked, and read, and cut, and drink. She bought some new clothes two days after getting her letter inviting her to come to Hogwarts to repeat her 7th year since it was ruined by the war and all. She had been elected Head Girl. She would have her own quarters and own common room that she would share with the Head Boy. His identity wasn't revealed in the letter, and she absolutely didn't care. It would be some Ravenclaw or a dumb Hufflepuff. Also, in a more personal letter the new Headmistress McGonagall told her that all of her books and her Gryffindor uniform were purchased by her, as a gift of her 18th birthday. She smiled a little when she read this, a sad little smile. The woman always had cared about her, and when she knew that her parents couldn't remember she took the role of a mother to her. She would never be able to tell her how grateful she was for that, she felt like the elder witch was her only family left now.

So, two days after getting the letter from Hogwarts she went shopping. First time she came out of her house since the clinic. The sun was too bright and felt warm against her skin, and the cool breeze of the end of summer was beyond refreshing.

She bought some new jeans, five plain black t-shirts, and five plain white, a little black dress (in a moment of sudden confidence) and some lacy undergarments. Some years before she had discovered how sexy the touch of lace made her feel, and now it had become somewhat of a habit to purchase sexy bras and knickers. They made her feel better about herself.

On her way home some drunk men insulted her calling her a freak and some other things along the line. That night for each harassing coment she cut one line. Five deep cuts covered her left wrist now, and two in each leg. They weren't fully healed yet.

Now she was watching little kids saying their good byes to their parents and smoking a cigarette hoping no one would catch her. She was dressed in an oversized sweater and black tight jeans. Her chestnut curls were tamed and fell down below her shoulders, and she wore heavy black eye-liner and a faint touch of vanilla perfurme.

In her lap was placed her old edition of Wuthering Heights, the masterpiece of Emily Brontë, and in her back she had almost 30 packets of Marlboro and a fair amount of books to keep her company through the year.

The train started to move, and she felt the old tug of anticipation on her chest despite not being a child anymore. She throw the now unlit cigarette out the window and stared simply at the british lanscape. She checked her watch. In ten minutes she was supposed to meet the Head Boy to talk about the patrols and their duties and how they would organize them. Then, half an hour later they would have to meet with the prefects so that they could discuss their patrols also. She was to meet the Head Boy in the last compartment, where she was now sitting. She anxiously waited for some Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw boy to stumble to her compartment and mutter some kind of apology, but none of that happened. A quarter of an hour had passed now, and she shifted in her seat uncomfortably, and waited for someone to arrive.

But no one opened the door. So after five minutes of staring dumbly at the door with a blank expression she turned to read her book. Suddenly someone came in through the door an she sighed, frustrated. She turned around ready to scold whoever that was Head Boy when he saw his smirk. That smirk she knew oh-so-well. Malfoy. Draco-sodding-Malfoy was her partner. She couldn't help but stand there wide-eyed, staring at him with her mouth hanging open.

"Nice to see you too Granger. Close your mouth or you'll catch flies."

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 **Author's note: Well, well, well. How is it so far? I know, I know, it is a short chapter. Anyway, review, comment, follow or do none of the above if you didn't like it! Love you all sweeties 3**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Well, well, well...here we are again my lovely readers. Thank you for reading this sweethearts :3 So, now Hermione has discovered who her new companion was: DRACO MALFOY *squeals like a fangirl* So yeah, this chapter is going to have some brief dramione moments but nothing big for now, because seriously, it is NOT going to happen SOOOOO FAST.**

 **So as usual, I don't own Harry Potter, I only own the plot. I wish I could own Draco Malfoy, because well...HE IS DRACO MALFOY *^* But I don't :(**

 **Enjoy this chapter honeys :3**

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 _ **"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind."**_  
 _ **― Bernard M. Baruch-**_

After the war Draco had been judged: innocent, they said. You can go now. His father went to Azkaban, his mother was free. He was free.

His mother, Narcissa, kept her self collected when her husband Lucius Malfoy Was condemned to rot in Azkaban for the rest of his life. Draco could that she even felt relieved. His father had been abusive towards her since he was a child, he used to beat her up when he was drunk while he insulted her saying that she was the weakest woman he had ever known and that she was a disgrace for the Malfoy name, like his child, Draco. Then he would sneer at her and go down to the dungeons ordering us to left him alone since, apparently, our presence alone disgusted him. This had become worse after Narcissa had betrayed the Drak Lord and let Harry Potter escape.

Draco was also relieved to know that his father would be no longer controlling his life. Since he was a child he was always putting him down, and telling him that he had to uphold the family name in front of their "inferiors". That turned for the worse when he entered Hogwarts and Granger started beating him in every class.

The damn witch was bloody intelligent, and the fact that she was a muggle born pissed his father to the point where he would threaten Draco in order to get him to beat the mudblood. That's why he had hated Granger with so much force during their childhood: because she was the reason behind his punishments, she was the reason why he was constantly rememberd he was not enough to be his father's son.

Eventually, when he grew up he learnt that humans are humans, we all have blood and we all can bleed. There wasn't a single difference between muggle-born wizards and pureblood wizards, and that was proven by Hermione Granger, nonetheless. Her intelligence, her wittiness, the mischiveous smile that sometimes danced on her lips or the glint in her eyes that craved new knowledge proved to the wizard, little by little, that we are all the same. But when he realized that, he was a Death Eater. When he realised that, he was too full of shite to get out of it. When he realised that not only his life was on the line, but his family's as well, and while he despised Lucius he loved his mother dearly.

So he fought. He didn't fight for the Dark Side, he didn't fight for the Light Side, he fought for his life, for the survival of his family.

And, to his surprise, he did. Well, more or less.

Now Lucius had been sent to Azkaban and Draco was returning to Hogwarts. As Head Boy, to be precise.

He was nervous for his return, like really really REALLY NERVOUS. In the eyes of society he was still a Death Eater, it didn't matter if he had been proved innocent or not, all they remembered about him was his snarky git façade. And he couldn't blame them, but still it hurted when he arrived at the Platform 9 and 3/4 and he was "welcomed" by a chorus of insults like: Death eater scum, Voldemort's slut, ferret, blond-haired git, etcetera. But of course, even though it hurted to know how much the wizarding community hated he just payed them no mind and entered the train ignoring his classmates glares.

He couldn't blame them, but still he wished they would forgive him. He had only been a child, for God's sake! He knew that was a poor excuse, they all had been too young to fight, but still they weren't pressured by Lord-fucking-Voldemort, whom had been living in his house at the time, I might add.

But the one thing that terrified him the most, he thought as he sat in the far end of a vacant compartment, was confronting the new Head Girl: Hermione Granger. And he had far too many reasons to be terrified by her:

1.- He had been a snarky git with her in Hogwarts

2.- He had insulted and put her down whenever he had the occasions, often referring to her as mudblood.

3.- He had wished for her death in 2nd year.

4.- He had insulted her friends as well.

5.- His aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange, had tortured her and used an unforgivable curse on her.

6.- He was a coward, and she was a war-hero.

Yes, he didn't want to meet her, and he was late to their meeting, but he was far too afraid that she would hex him! Merlin knew the witch was heavy with hexes!

After 20 minutes he finally gathered the little courage he had left, his hair was tousled while he searched for her compartment. Finally he saw her. She was wearing an oversized jumper and tight black jeans that made her legs longer than they were and gave her an air of sexiness. She wore her hair down, her wild curls finally tamed into soft chestnut waves that fell beneath her shoulders. Merlin, she was beautiful! Although he would actually miss her bushy hair, all frizzy and savage, he quite liked the way it looked on her. She was about to grab her book when he entered the place. She said some kind of complaint grumpily and turned her head ready to murder whoever that had disturbed her. But she froze.

He was quite shaken himself by how she looked. Her hazel eyes were framed with black eye-liner and her lips were full and glossy. Her cheeks wore a faint touch of pink and she could see nothing but surprise in those deep orbs of hers.

He couldn't tell what moved him to smirk and say "Nice to see you too Granger. Close your mouth or you'll catch flies."

Fuck, he was back to being his usual-self. Seriously, couldn't he learn to make amends?! No, obviously he couldn't. He mind-slapped himself. Granger rolled his eyes, and sneered at him.

"Malfoy I don't have time to deal with you being a git so if we could please try to tolerate or ignor each other I think that would be the best course of action". Si sighed, suddenly feeling defeated. He could tell that something was wrong with her. Her fire seemed extinguished, like she was broken deep deep down.

"I think I can do that Granger."- He said quietly, shocked by her sudden change of mood.

"You better do it Malfoy, or I will hex your balls of" - she treatened. He gulped, that was a darn serious threat, and he knew she was very capable of complying it.

"No need to be so snappy Granger, I am past school rivalries and stupid blood prejudices". She seem startled by this statement, and he grinned to himself.

"Oh. Well, then. Now, can we go on and discuss the patrols and the other things that we have to tell the prefects?"

"Always so bossy"- he muttered- "Yeah Granger, I will go and get a piece of parchement."

"I have one already"

"Being you I expected nothing else". She grinned, wicked burning in her eyes and sadness dripping from her face. He could tell she was not Hermione Granger anymore, no the one he knew. Was this the effect that the war had had in her?

"So, then, I think it would be great to pair Gryffindor prefects with Slytherin's and Ravenclaw's with Hufflepuff's. This way inter-house unity will be promoted, and they will learn that not all Gryffindors are brave and fearless, not all Slytherins are cunning and bitchy, not all Ravenclaws are study-obsessed and know-it-alls, and not all Hufflepuffs are honest and dumb. Also we have to ask them whether they practice Quidditch or have extra activities after class, because I don't think that after a tough hour of Quidditch training they will actually want to patrol around. Probably if they do they'll fall asleep. Any objections?"

"Eh...yes. I don't think Gryffindor with Slytherin will do great."

"Didn't you say you were past school rivalries?"

"Yes but this is not a matter of school rivalries. Have you not considered that some of the prefects are children of Death Eaters? Don't you think that maybe, just MAYBE, Gryffindors might be far too judgemental with them?"

"Well...that's true..then maybe...uh...maybe Rvenclaw with Slytherin and Hufflepuff with Gryffindor? We could use that combination until Christmas break and then after the break we could try Gryffindor with Slytherin and Ravenclaw with Hufflepuff. If they have time to know each other, it should be easy for them not to be rude to the Slytherins."

"We could try that. So yeah, that'll be it. Now, we don't have to patrol hallways, but we shall accompany today the first years to the castles. They prefects will lead them to their dormitories, is that correct?"

"Yeah"

"Now, I suggest we meet on Mondays, so as to get rid of it at the beginning of the week. And, I think that is all. Do you agree as far as we have gone?"

"Yes, now is that all Granger?, you haven't changed one bit. You are still as bossy as always"- he didn't mean to sound offensive, but it sounded rude. He was no good in trying to amend mistakes from the past.

"Shut up Malfoy. Now have have you written down something in the piece of parchement I've given you?"

"Er...ummm...nope" He blushed and looked away. He had been hearing her speech the entire time and had written nothing apart from the current date.

"Ugh, just give it to me, will you?" She pulled took his paper and brushed her hand with hers. Her hands were cold and her skin was cream-coloured. Her wrists were exposed a brief moment and he saw three thin lines adorning them and covered with dry blood, they were scarred, like they had been cut with a knife or like a cat had scratched them. Had she done that to herself? No it couldn't be possible, could it?

"Well then, we still have half an hour before we meet the prefect, so anything else you want to discuss?" She arched her ebreyow questioning him.

"No, I'm fine with this"

With that she turned to her book to read. Ten minutes passed in an uncomfortable silence, she was ignoring him and he was afraid of being a nuisance to her so they just remained quiet. Finally he spoke, it at least deserved a chance trying at least to make a small talk with her.

"So..uh...how was your summer Granger?"

She sighed frustrated. "Honestly, why do you care Malfoy? Can't we just ignore each other's presence?"

"No need to be so rude. I just was trying to have a civil conversation with you-"

"I WHAT MALFOY? MUDBLOOD? BUSHY-HAIRED KNOW-IT-ALL? FREAK? JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!" She souted at him, trembling with anger.

"I WASN'T GOING TO INSULT YOU IDIOT. BUT HERE YOU ARE ASSUMING THAT I AM THE SAME GIT I WAS! I thought you could understand that the war changed all of us, not only the Golden Trio!" He was hurt by her statement, by her believing so bluntly that he would insult her, as if he had not changed at all. But he couldn't blame her, so why did he feel disappointed? She had a fair amount of reasons to hate him.

"Just-just shut up Malfoy will you?". Tears were forming in her eyes and she just turned around to face the window rather than him. He felt concerned for her.

"Grang-Hermione are you okay?"

Tears were pouring down her cheeks and without answering she stand up and left the compartment. She was nowhere to be seen when the prefects came and Draco started the meeting without her. He would have to talk to her that night and discover what the hell had happened.

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 **So, how was it? I hope you liked it :D thanks for all the follows and the favourites :3**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: so hi lovelies! I have just finished school so yay! :D Ok, in this chapter there might be a little bit of dramione, but not much, you see, I am only setting the scenario for now. So yeah, as you know I do not own Harry Potter, only this plot. I wish I would, obviously, but I also wish I could marry a double-chocolate muffin and I don't see it happening any soon.**

 **So please review, follow and favorite :3 Love you all**

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Hermione got up and walked away from the compartment, and found herself in some kind of cabinet for the backpacks crying her heart out, in the dark, whispers cursing through her head. Stupid/bint/freak/self-centered/traitor/mudblood/ugly/fat/slut/dirt; and so on. She wished she hadn't left her razor in her handbag because now she couldn't get any relief from the voices rummaging in her head. She scraped her scars with her pointed nails, marking each of them and drawing blood, watching how the red droplets of the thick liquid fell from her arm to the floor. Her eyes were swollen because of the journey spent crying but she didn't fucking care. She was too exhausted by her own grief to be concerned about her appearance, so she continued drawing blood until both of her arms were covered with red angry scratches done not even an hour ago by her own nails digging through her skin.

She muttered a quick _Scourgify_ so as to clean the blood but she didn't heal her wounds. She deserved them. She deserved the bad, she deserved the hurt, she deserved a constant reminder of how she was a stupid, worthless bitch.

 _ **"All great and precious things are lonely."**_

 _ **\- East of eden, John Steinbeck-**_

The prefects meeting with the Head Boy and Girl was far over now, and they were currently leaving the train, Draco wondering were the witch was. Three hours had passed since she left in that sudden outburst of pain, and he was starting to fear if something had happened to her or if she was hurt. She was naver late. And yet he was now pacing nerviously in front of the boats and ignoring the gaze of a very worried Rubeus Hagrid.

The first years were still arriving but they'd have to set off in ten minutes or so. He was afraid he couldn't buy her any more time, and speaking of the devil, Draco recognised the familiar mane of chestnut curls standing off the crowd. Even though it wasn't as near as wild as he had recalled to be before, it was still distinct from the others. She rushed through the thick crowd and rushed swiftly to stand by his side.

He greeted her with a mere "hi" and she nodded in acknowledgement. Her shirt was disheveled and there were trails of mascara in her cheeks, probably because she must have had cried an awful lot. He didn't like the thought of the fiery Gryffindor being hurt, but he decided that he would try and make-up things with her that night in their dormitories, where they had some more privacy. Maybe he would convince her establish a civil conversation with him and he could ask about the marks on her wrists.

Once the first years had all arrived, Hermione cleared her throat and calmly instructed them to choose a partener and to get on a boat. Soon the pairs had been made and the first years were sailing to Hogwarts following the lead of Hagrid, Draco and Hermione.

The younger students looked at their sorroundings in awe, being star-strucked by the beautiful sight.

Hermione and Draco didn't talk while they were on their way to the school. She was rubbing her temples, as if she suffered some kind of terrible head-ache and he knew better than to try to talk with a tired and emotional Hermione Granger, so he just sat there gazing at the stars and naming the ones he could remember.  
He had always liked Astronomy, after all, most if not all his family was named after some kind of constellation, star, planet, etc. It was kind of a Malfoy tradition. When he was a child ,and Lucius came drunk home, he would go and hide in his secret spot in the garden and gaze at the stars, feeling that he belonged to the sky, that it was his real home, but now he knew better, those were all foolish and childish dreams.

As they reached the familiar gates Draco glanced quickly at Hermione. She was only a tiny part of the powerful, stubborn and bossy witch he remembered that could get on his nerves any time. He almost missed that, fighting with her, their confrontations (when they did not involve blood purity) had always been amusing and interesting to him, and he quite enjoyed them. He couldn't say she felt the same, though, as much as he wished he could.

He notices that her cheeks were still strained with black mascara so he sighed and quietly searched for his handkerchief. When he found the white, soft piece of cloth he handed it to her.

"Now Granger, clean up yourself. You've got black stains in your cheeks"- he almost sounded gentle and genuinely concerned for him, and that startled the young woman quite a bit. She didn't what to say. She felt like snapping at him, she was angry about everything at the moment but after all it wasn't his fault, so she draw a calming breath.

"Thanks"- she murmured, and she wiped her face gently, careful not to stain too much the handkerchief he had so kindly given her. She didn't know ehy hee was being so nice, after all he very hated her. He may not be anymore a pure-blooded bigoted git, but his dislike for her had always been great. Well, that wasn't at all true, she could recall short conversations with him, mostly during class, almost arguing teasingly about the assignements. This had happened as he grew older obviously, around the time she punched him. Their conversations were not often, she cound only recall five, but they really did make her wander if he disliked her with such a passion as she believed him.

Well, it didn't matter, did it? She was now another person, the war had changed them all, but she seemed the one still broken. It wasn't only the war, it had been the lost of her friends mostly, it had been the hurt of those memories, those insults that Ronald had growled at her, constantly replaying in her mind. Surely now she was a stranger disguising in Hermione Granger's body.

She handed the handkerchief to Malfoy and he tucked it softly in his left pocket.

Draco could see the sadness in her eyes, could see her brain working, and wondered if maybe they could skip dinner, he wanted to talk to her. He knew that she probably wouldn't want to tell him, but he wanted to make things clear with her. He was, for once in his life, going to do things right.

Finally they arrived at the gates of the oh-so-familiar building and both of them lead the first years into the castle. This time, when they reached the stairs it was Draco who spoke and instructed them in a severing and imposing tone that they now would be led to the Great Hall by the prefects to have dinner and to be placed in their respective houses by The Sorting Hat. After that they were expected to meet with their prefects so as to show them their way to their dormitories.

As if on cue, the prefects arrived and replaced them from their duties, leading the young students to the Great Hall, where soft "oohs" and "aaahs" were heard. Hermione couldn't help but chuckle softly at the new student's reaction, but suddenly she remembered her friends and her thin lips formed a sad expression. Draco, having seen this sudden change in her mood decided to leave her alone for a moment, and nodding curtly left for the Great Hall. His questions could wait, she seemed to need some time to herself right now.

He expected Hermione to follow him to the Great Hall after ten minutes are so, but the tables were now filled with people and there was no sign of a certain know-it-all Gryffindor. Half an hour passed and the feast had started and there was no sign of Granger so far.

He payed small attention to the incessant chatter of his fellow classmates and stared worriedly at the Gryffindor table. She was not there yet. He shifted uncomfortabily in his seat. Once the Headmistress had made all the announcements of the evening he quickly excused himself and went on to the Heads dormitories. She had to be there. He tried to calm himself unsuccesfully. Sure, he knew Hermione Granger was a very capable young woman and a powerful witch beyond doubt, but during their journey she had seemed rather gloomy and unhuppy. Furthermore, seeing those scars in her wrists had altered him greatly.

Unconsciously he walked faster and faster by the hallaways until he was practically running to to the dormitories. He knew that they couldn't cast the password unless they were both present so the portrait let him enter right away.

He took a moment to take in his sorroundings, he was in a large comfy living-room that was provided with a big fireplace, two loveseats, one couch, one coffe table and one desk. The walls were painted baige and the couch and loveseats were covered in dark brown leather. The desks were wooden-made and their colour tone was one tone lighter than the couch and loveseats. He found Hermione's bag in the floor and approached her door (he could tell it was hers because it was closed). He knocked softly three times and awaited for a response.

5 minutes passed and there was no reply. He tried calling her. "Granger, are you in there?"- he said a little bit louder than he intented to. Again he was rewarded with silence.

He was becoming more and more worried. He tried calling her again, now concern tainting his voice. "Hermione? Please, open the door. I promise I will leave you alone, I just want to know if you are alright."

He heard a strangled sob from the other side of the door. He would not stay there while she was crying so he gathered his wits and said: "Granger, I am going to enter." And with that he opened the door.

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 **So yeah, there it is, the next chapter. What will happen now? CHAN,CHAN,CHAAAAAN. Love to you all and remember: review, favorite and follow!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: So I hope you enjoyed the last chapter an will enjoy this one as will, and as always kisses to you lovelies! As you know I do not on anything, sadly, only the plot. Oh, and if you don't mind me saying this if you never had listen to "Draco and the Malfoys" or "Harry and the Potters" you just have to listen to them. Seriously. They are hilarious. I am now listening to them ok? I am just rambling a bit so off with the chapter we go!**

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 _ **"We need never be ashamed of our tears."**_

 _ **\- Great Expectations, Charles Dickens -**_

He was shocked by what he saw when he entered the room of the young witch. In the floor Hermione Granger sat with numerous cuts on her arms and on her thighs, they seemed self-inflicted. She was tear-strained and was shouting at him to leave her alone and somehing along the lines to mind his own fucking business, but at the moment he didn't bloody care. His witch was hurt (wait, wait, wait, his witch? woah there Draco don't get too excited, boy) and he was going to take care of her, even if she didn't want to.

He locked the door so that she could not escape and approached Hermione's side. She had stop souting and now stared at the floor silently crying and scrating her arms drawing more blood of her certainly deep wounds. He didn't knew what to do but he tried talking.

"What the fuck are you doing Granger?!"- Fuck, he didn't mean it to sound so harsh and angry, but now the damage was done and a watery and red-eyed Hermione looked at him with a mix of sadness, grief, pain, and fury.

"Mind your own business. You have no right to be here, UNDERSTAND?! NOW LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE OR I WILL HEX YOUR BALLS OFF MALFOY. GET THE FUCK OUT HERE AND LEAVE ME ALONE!"- she wiped her tears furiously, but continued crying despite of her efforts.

Draco wasn't surprised at all by her harsh words, they were intended to keep him at bay, so that he couldn't reach her real feelings. He himself had done the same during most of his life, so it wouldn't work with him. He knew better than that and knew that she needed comforting even is se¡he was not ready to admit it yet.

"No"- he said surprisingly calmed- I have no intention to leave you in this state Granger. It is obvious that you are hurt and wounded, not only phisically but emotionally as well, and I intend on staying here until I deem necessary, wether you want it or not- he said leaving no room for question but trying to not sound unkind or hard on her.

She eyed him confused by his actions, and tried to compose herself. She didn't say anything, she knew she was still weak and that her voice was shaky because of the long hours crying. Finally, a few minutes after, tears stopped flowing and she laid still, surprise taking her whiskey-eyes as she tried to control her emotions and gain some dignity. She looked downright uncomfortable by his presence in her room but at her lack of words, Draco eventually continued talking.

"I don't know where your friends are but you-"- he was interrupted by a loud sob. She looked broken, empty, nothing like herself. She had lost herself completely and he yearned to help her, to be able to comfort her, so without thinking he took her hand and squezzed trying to assure her without words that everything would be all right. She leaned in and cried in his chest quietly letting everything out, for once indulging her own weakness.

She couldn't tell what brought her to be crying in the arms of Draco Malfoy of all people, clutching to his shirt as if her life depended on it, but at the moment she didn't question it, she just couldn't hold it any longer.  
The blood had stopped flowing and her arm felt strange with the dried burgundy liquid all over her flesh. Her thighs were partly covered in her own blood too.

She couldn't tell how much time he spent holding her and she spent crying, letting her walls cumbrle down, each one at a time, until her soul was naked before him. It could have been minutes, seconds or hours, she didn't care. She couldn't find any tears left and she felt emotionally and physically drained.  
Her make-up was smudge all over her face and there was eye-liner in Draco's shirt. He was trying to soothe her by drawing non-sense patterns in her back and she felt helplessly vulnerable as she stared at her former childhood bully.

As she felt her emotions be back in control she conjured the best blank face and with indiference she said: "Draco, I am all right now. Leave. Next time you enter my room I will not hesitate to hex you."- she said sternly, trying to sound threatening but failing as her voice was still shaky and overwhelmed with emotion.

"Granger you are stark raving mad if you think I am leaving you, haven't you seen your arm?"-he said angrily now.

"YES I HAVE SEEN IT MALFOY!"- she said huffing angrily now and at the sight of her glassy eyes Draco tried to be a bit more gentle so as not to upset her. He needed to gain her trust in order to help her.

"Granger, I do not wish to upset you but I am not leaving until I make sure you are alright, so now leat me heal those wounds"- he said aproaching her hurt arm.

"NO! I mean...err...mmm...no...it hurts?"- she said, unconvincingly.

"Do you actually not remember that I am a Malfoy? My family is supposed to be stoic and to learn to lie to people as if it was breathing, and let me tell you that you are not good at it Hermione"- he said smirking teasingly but somewhat serious.

"Whatever. If you heal them will you leave me alone?"- she said exasperated at his reluctance to leave.

He considered her offer for a moment but decided against it and resolved saying: "No. If you let me heal you you must tell me tomorrow morning what has happened to you and why where you hurt. And I want no non-sense Granger. This isn't only about being friends or not, it is about your well-being and about your duties as Head Girl as well, beacuse be sure that if you continue like this I will ahve to report the Headmistress. I would prefer not to but I do not want to have to hide a corpse."- he stated clearly.

She lingered on his answer, carefully knowing that he would have known sooner or later, and that even though she wished it had been much, much, _much_ later, she guessed she didn't have a choice since if he reported her to McGonagall she might be placed to 's or be back at The Clinic. So while he pierced her with his grey eyes she nodded flinching slightly when he touched her with a wet cloth to remove the blood from her arms and thighs.

He caressed her skin gently, careful not to hurt her any more, and tried to do his best removing her blood from herl left arm and both thighs. Whenever he touched a new zone she would gasp and squeeze her eyes shut, but eventually she would sigh relieved at the sensation of the cool water against her wounds.  
He was done in half an hour, and with his wand he cast some simple healing spells.

"Can you go now?"- she snapped tiredly.

"Yes, but I am sending a Patronus to McGonagall telling her that tomorrow we will be taking our day off because we need to discuse some matters. She will understand and won't question as long as we make up for the classes we have missed so I don't think there will be any problems"

"You have no right to order me around bloody git! Watch your tone Malfoy"- she hissed dangerously, but the venom in her voice didn't reach her eyes, there was no fire there, not anymore. He realised this fact and was saddened by it but he was determined to return the Gryffindor Princess its fire.

"Yes I have, because you do not want me to tell anything"- he said in a very Slyterhin-manner.

"Sneaky-bigoted-git"- she muttered.-"Well then, have it your way, I will see you in the morning Malfoy, but I hope that after you get a good laugh at me you'll stop this non-sense."- she said, this time louder.

He stepped closer to her, and heard her breath hitch, for one moment an angry flicker of fire burned in her yes and he grinned to himself.

"Hermione, I am not going to laugh at you. I am not the same you knew, I do not hate you and I care for your well-being as I care for any other classmate."- he said with a voice that sent a shiver down her spine.

He turned for the door and lingered on a moment before he said. "Good night Granger"- and then he walked out the door.

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That night Hermione didn't cut before sleeping and nightmares crept up her bed.

That night Draco dreamed of a life with a certain youn witch.

That night Hermione felt powerless in her dreams. That night Draco wished the next morning he would be able to comfort her somehow.

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Hermione woke up at 6 a.m in the morning. She had dark bags under her eyes and seeing that Malfoy still sound asleep (or so it seemed by his soft snores) he took a long relaxing bath in the tub with hot steaming water. She washed her hair as well, with her scented vanilla shampoo and cinnamon conditioner and dried it with a quick charm. Then she wrapped a fluffy beige towel arround her body tucking it tightly above her round and perky breasts and went to her room sighing not knowing what would happen this morning. She dressed with a black large sweater and boot cut jeans and went to their living-room waiting for Draco to made his appearance.

As if knowing she was thinking about him, he stepped out of the bathroom dressed with white t-shirt and some muggle jeans and sat by her side not acknowledging her presence until he sent his patronus to McGonagall explaining their respective absences.

The Headmistress was not surprised by this request and agreed as long as they made up for their classes. After hearing the reply of the elder witch, Draco turned to Hermione.

"Now, tell me everything from the beginning, I will order some breakfast to a house elf and then you can begin telling me what the hell happened yesterday."

"You won't tell anyone?"- she said, vulnerablity showing off in her eyes. Draco wandered what could have been that had put Granger in such a state but he replied nonetheles.

"Granger, I won't tell anyone. When I make a deal I stick for it"- he said smugly- "That is common trait in Slytherins as you know".

She laughed bitterly. "Yes, one of their many wonderful traits"

A house elf arrived and they ordered breakfast. Draco was eager to know what had happened to Granger and if he could fix her, Hermione didn't knew Malfoy's intetions but some kind of instinct told her that it wouldn't be bad and for once she left rationality aside and when the breakfast arrived she began her story.

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 **Now I have stayed after late to write this chapter so there may be a lot of gramatical errors. I will correct them in the morning. Love you sweeties!**


	5. Chapter 5

**IAuthor's note: so well, well, well. Here we are now, chapter 5. Ok, I know in the previous chapters there had been a lot of grammatical errors and I will revise them and try to fix them, even though, feel free to point them out for me. It's really helpful sweethearts! Alsp please note this warning: IN THIS CHAPTER THERE WILL BE RON BASHING. I REPEAT, RON BASHING. If you don't like it , don't read.**

 **Also thank you for your reviews and kind follows/favorites. You really make my day lovelies! As you know I own nothing but the plot and the muffin I am eating.**

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 _ **"Love is never supposed to hurt. Love is supposed to heal, to be your haven from misery, to make living fucking worthwhile."**_

 _ **-Mia Asher, Arsen: A Broken Love Story-**_

Breakfast arrived and the house-elf (named Tinky or something like that), dissapeared from their room with a loud pop.

Silence filled the small and cozy living-room and the air linged with expectations and promises.

Hermione chewed slowly her toast and Draco watched her with an air of exasperation and something that wavered and felt like concern (Concern? Malfoy? What a joke!). She looked at him and he swallowed a small sip of Black Earl Grey tea. He cringed at the sour taste and put a handful of honey into the mug before taking another sip, then he locked eyes with her, waiting for her to began her tale, and she swallowed the last piece of toast feeling slightly nervous under the icy and molten grey stare of the blond Slytherin.

After what felt like ages she lowered her head and stared at the floor waiting for the words to struck her. She didn't know if she could do this. It was everything veery recent. It felt sore, it felt like if she talked about it, if she voiced it out loud, the wound that hammered her chest would re-open once more, and the pain would come back, striking with all its might.

But still, she didn't have another option, did she? And as she stared at her feet, embarrased for what she was about to tell, she prayed to a surely non-existant God that Malfoy would after her confession leave her alone, once and for all.

"Malfoy you won't tell a single soul, will you?"-she muttered, vulnerability glazing in her eyes, suddenly feeling lost in those stormy orbs of his.

"I already told you Granger"- he said, almost whispering but somewhat being a little bit harsh at the same time-" I won't tell anyone. It will never leave this walls. I swear on my life"

And as he said that, she knew that there was no danger, that he meant no harm. She knew it, even if it was based on mere instinctive and illogical reasons. So, she finally began.

" _Ron and I started dating after the war. I had been in love with him since I was barely a teen so I felt like it just made sense to be together after all. It felt right, like I could have my happily ever after. But you know, life is not a fairytale, and suddenly, after weeks of being with him I started to miss something in our relationship. At firts he was loving and caring, he was a bit thick sometimes but I found that endearing, but as weeks passed by he started to pressure me to have physical relations with him.  
I wasn't comfortable with that and told him I wasn't ready yet, the war was still fresh in my mind and I often had nightmares and woke up sweaty and worn feeling the after-effects of the Cruciatus curse Bellatriz had inflicted in me. The scar would burn and I felt self-disgusted.  
He kept pressuring me, we started to have rows, fights over nothing, he started drinking. I mourned over the losses of my dear ones, I felt guilty fot being alive when they were not. I started feeling like a mistake, but it was only a whisper in my mind at the moment.  
_

 _After a month he convinced me to have sex with him. It all happened too fast. He-he-he disrobed me and saw the scar on my left arm as well as some that displayed around my back and bare chest because of the curse. He slapped me and insulted me telling me that I was not worth fucking. That's when I first cut, it was only a thin line, a soft cut, not too deep. It barely draw blood._

 _He left the house for two days and returned begging for forgiveness. I accepted his apologies but turned him down everytime he told me to "give sex another try". He started growing distant and cold. He would not fight, he would not care, but I told myself that I was being paranoic and onw day, when I returned home finally feeling prepared to "get more sirious with him" I found him...in-in our bed...with Pansy._

 _He didn't even explain. He blamed me and my scars and my nightmares and my "bossy know-it-all attitude" as he said. I left our home and stayed at a motel for weeks. I sarted cutting again. It was my only relief._

 _The nightmares got worse. I was only a...mudblood. I was nothing. I didn't deserve to be alive. So many had died...I didn't even appreciate what I had and acted like a bitch with Ron, but I guess it doesn't matter now anyway._

 _Finally, all the guilt I had bottled up and the angst I felt for not being enough for Ron, or for anyone in that matter, surpassed me._

 _One night I took too many pills and drew too many cuts on my wrists and I waited for the Death to come for me finally. But it didn't come. I didn't find my desired peace. Instead of that a muggle found me in the motel and called an ambulance._

 _I was locked up in a hospital called The Clinic. It deals with mental health. They said they'd release me when I was happy so I pretended. They knew nothing, they couldn't help._

 _When they realeased me I started cutting again. I drank. I smoke. The nightmares got worse and worse._

 _I am cold, I am numb and truly I can't care less._

 _I accepted coming back, I couldn't disappoint Minerva, I couldn't disappoint anyone. I am doing fairly fine. The nightmares never leave me so I simply don't sleep, I prefer drinking. I am useless. I couldn't even keep a man by my side. I am disgusting. I am not worthy of being alive, I am so wrong..."-_ she said this between sobs and started cursing herself and scratching her skin like a wild cat.

Draco was shocked by her story. The war had broke her, Ron had broke her, and had left an empty shell instead of the fiery Gryffindor lioness with whom he enjoyed so much bantering. He was surprised at her lack of courage, this wasn't Hermione Granger, this was only a reminder of what she was once.

She was still ther crying furiously and cursing herself angrily and finally Draco took her in her arms hugging her tight and keeping her from doing more harm to herself than what was already done.

"Granger, listen to me, will you?"-he wshipered to her hair, hoping to comfort her. She stopped jerking and trying to get herself of the embrace of none other than Draco Malfoy, and eyed him with watery hazel eyes. She muttered a soft yes while she looked at him wide-eyed.

"I thought you knew better than to know that there is nothing wrong with you. Nothing wrong woth your body, with your blood status, with your personality or with your scars. If the Weasel can't see that then he's not worth it Hermione, and you know it. I know that deep down you know it. There is nothing wrong with you, and more importantly, there is nothing wrong with you being alive when others aren't. You didn't murder them, you just survived, and it is not your fault that they are dead. I know it hurts, I know it is hard to let go. But you must Granger, you must let go."- he watched her hoping that his rather large speech had knocked some sense into her. Tears started falling again and he hugged and tried to sooth her drawing random patterns in the small of her back.

"B-b-b-but Malfoy. I am nothing, I am..I am not worthy.."- a wrecked sob escaped her mouth and he hushed her.

"Granger, you will overcome this, okay? You will get better and you will be happy, do you understand me?"

"But I DON'T DESERVE IT... I am pathetic...I am nothing more than filth..."

"Don't you dare say it Hermione. Don't you dare say you are a mudblood or that you are below anyone because of your blood. You know it's non-sense, I know that you know it Hermione. You are stronger than this. You are far more intelligent than to believe that crap about blood supremacy"

"But-but-but..."

"But nothing Granger. Stop drowning because of that. You are a powerful wich, do not lower yourself calling yourself names like that."

She was crying again, in agony, letting it all out. Letting it all go.

"Even though, it doesn't even matter Malfoy. I am better of dead"- and she sobbed loudly into his chest. He didn't dare speak a word, she needed to calm down. After she had calmed down then he would try to knock some sense into her and fix her, slowly, but always trying to do the best he could for the marvelous witch that was tangled in his arms and whose heart ached with pained, sorrow and self-loathing.

He sushed her and whispered sweet nothings to her as she was lulled to sleep by the sound of his masculine voice and when she started to feel sleepy and light headed, knowing the day had took its toll on her, she whispered her last words before falling asleep completely.

"Draco, stay, I don't want the nightmares to come".

And so he stayed, wrapping the witch in his arms protectively and plotting how to kill the Weasel.

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 **Okay I am really sleepy so I am going to bed. I will correct the mistakes tomorrow sweeties. The next chapter will deal with Hermione hraling and will not be so angsty. She will slowly be herself, she is after all, a very strong witch.**

 **PS: Tell me your thoughts so far!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author note: Yes I know I didn't update in like forever. I am really sorry, it was just that ugh I'm having a bit of a problem with this story because I don't want Hermione to sound too whiny but then it has to be real and she cannot just be fine for the sake of it. I'll try to make small moments of light that will increase, do you think that will work? I hope so. As always I don't own anything but the plot. The characters are OOC and there is Ron-bashing, don't like it, don't read it! Happy day lovelies!**

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 _ **"And if somebody hurts you, I wanna fight, but my hands been broken one too many times,**_

 _ **So I'll use my voice, I'll be so fucking rude, words they always win but I know I'll lose"**_

 _ **\- Tom Odell, Another love -**_

Draco stayed that night, and fell asleep by the witch's side, by _his_ witch's side: he had a pleasant dream in which he tortured the Weasel over and over and was rewarded after with a kiss from Hermione. Draco knew he wasn't a good guy, hell he wasn't even nice most of the time, but he was fiercely loyal to those whom he considered worthy of his affections. And so Hermione happened to be one of those rare people.

In the other side of the bed, Hermione was restless. She tossed and turned and as the nightmare became more vivid, more real, she wasn't able to suppress her scream. She was suddenly in the manor again, but something was off, different: Draco. Draco normally wouldn't appear in her dreams, it was only Bellatrix and her, and the Cruciatus over and over again. Fucking hell, that's what it was. But tonight Hermione dreamt that meanwhile Bellatrix crucioed her Draco came up to her and started beating her saying those same words Ron had said that fateful night to her. In her dream Hermione started screaming, begging for mercy, crying and kicking around in a desperate plea of forgiveness for being who she was.

Little did she know that she was doing those very same things in reality.

Draco awoke when she started screaming. She kicked the blankets and grabbed the sheets tightly in her white-knuckeled fists, mumbling incoherent phrases that sounded like pleas. Tears streamed down her face, and her cheeks where red and blotchy. Her back was arched in an impossible angle and she shook constantly. Draco knew he had to wake her in that instant. He tried not to startle her and softly grazed her knuckles with his thumb. She flinched and continued shouting, not knowing it was Draco the source of those caresess instead of the pointed dagger that held Bellatrix in her nightmare. Draco did not hesitate to repeat the small but shooting movement over and over, over the years he had learned from the frequent night terrors of Uncle Sev and his mother that it was better not to wake them abruptly but to just try to comfort them until the danger passed in the strange land of dreams. So that's what she did with Hermione. He rubbed his thumbs over her hands, little by little making her relax slightly until she was no longer clutching the sheets and until her screams where nothing but muffled sobs. Several minutes passed until she finally awoke.

Hermione regarded him in fear, her eyes wide and shiny from the recently shed tears. He grabbed her hand softly, gently, and after assessing there was no danger she threw herself at him. He craddled her in his arms, rocking her like a child, stroking her bushy chestnut curls every now and then, being careful and gentle. Treating her like she was something precious.

"What was it Hermione?" - he said softly, trying not to startle her.

"It-it-it was just...you...your aunt...- another broken sob escaped her lips and she cuddled in his chest, trying to make herself disappear.

"Hey. Hey, Hermione it's fine. I am here. You are not in Malfoy Manor."-she continued crying and he pulled back slightly, softly putting his index under her chin so as to make her look at him.

"Hermione, you are here in Hogwarts, yes?"- she nodded dumbfounded. She felt so small, so powerless, Never anyone had seen her in such a fragile state and been so kind to her. Well..maybe Harry. She sniffed loudly when he remembered him.

"Hermione, Hermione, look at me"- her brown chocolatey eyes regarded his molten ice ones, and she felt safe. It had been so long since she had felt safe. Maybe...maybe she was good enough? Maybe she did deserve good things?- That's it love, look at me. Now, want to tell me about your dream?

"No."- she said softly, finally composed.

"Okay. I won't push it. Do you want some tea to calm yourself?"

"That would be nice."- she looked at him warmly, and he felt the old Granger coming back to for the first time he had been here. He got up and went to their small kitchen to prepare a tray of Earl Grey tea.

In her bed Hermione felt slightly embarrased for being seen in such a weak state, but decided not to berate herself for it. She wondered if maybe her and Draco could be friends. Merlin knew she needed one of those right know. For one moment she felt like her old self and felt a warm funny feeling stir in her chest. She treid to cherish that little flame that warmed her up.

Draco entered the room carrying a tray of tea and sat on the edge of her bed, with the tray on his lap. Hermione motioned for him to scoot closer and he set the tray in the middle of the bed ending up in front of Hermione.

"How do you take your tea?"

"With a spoon of sugar please."

"Milk?"

"No thank you"

An awkard silence stretched between them. Hermione fidgeted with the hem of her pajamas. Draco glanced nerviously at her. Hermione swallowed and slowly took a tiny sip from her cup of tea. Draco stared transfixed at her lips, watching mesmerized how her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips. He shifted his gaze and took her in his eyes. She was beautiful.

"Draco, do...do you really think that I can become my old self again?"- she asked hesitantly.

"No."- he said certain. He saw upset, sadness, disappointement and understanding flicker in her eyes, like a storm passing her heart, before they went completely detached and limp. A normal person would not have caught on the emotions in her eyes that shone for those brief seconds, but after all, he WAS they godson of Severus Snape, and the man was the epitome of cold.

He cleared his throat before he continued speaking.

"No, you will not be the same Hermione we all knew. I think you will be much better, I think you will be stronger and wiser, Hermione. No one can be like they were years ago, and that isn't a bad thing. That's just the process of growing menatally, and phisically."

"Thank you"- she said. Her lips twitched and she rewarded him with a small cautious smile that made him blush.- Malfoy, are you blushing?. she said, amusement twinkling in her eyes.

He scoffed. Malfoys did not blush.

"I am not."

"You are"

"I am not"- the pretty pink that covered his cheeks had turned to a deep crimson.

"Whatever you say Malfoy, but that in english is called blushing."- she smirked. A bit. It was endearing, and Draco felt a fuzzy warm feeling just over his heart at the sight of his Hermione coming back to life for those brief moments.

"You are such a know it-all"- he lifted the tray to put it away from the bed and brushed her ribs accidentally. She snickered. He noticed. Was she ticklish? When the tray was safely away he turned to her grinning mischiviously.

"Are you ticklish Granger?"

"No...why would you say that?"

"Liar."

"I am not."

"So if I touch your ribs you will not laugh or giggle or squeal, will you?"

"Exactly"

"Prove it". And he launched himself attacking her with his fingers and making her laugh so hard that tears spran from her eyes.

"Okay, okay, okay enough!"- she squealed. Such a cute sound.

"Are you surrendering Granger?"- he started retreating.

"You wish" and she tickle his neck until he could take no more.

"Okay, okay you Gryffindor stubborn witch. I surrender!"- they stood panting and with twin smiles plastered on their faces. Hermione was over him and had him pinned to the matress, he stared at her with a gaze so hot that she felt molten lava run through her veins, and she released him blushing prettily. Draco looked away and silently stood up.

"I suppose I should go to my room"- Draco said slowly.- "I'll take the tea back to the kitchen"

"Yes, I..think so..I mean I think you should go to your room you must be exhausted I don't mind if you don't want to take back the tea I can take it back myself..."-she started blabbering nerviously.

"Don't worry. I...I'll just take it back."- he said, suddenly shy.

"Okay. Goodnight Malf...Draco"

He smiled softly looking at the disheveled young witch.

"Goodnight Hermione."

He closed the door soflty and Hermione went to sleep with s faint glimmer of hope illuminating her heart.

For the reminder of the night neither of them had nightmares, and they slept peacefully in their rooms thinking about the strange but revealing day the had just experienced.

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 **Author note: well I know this was really short but I will try better next time okay? Please don't kill me. As always please share, favorite, follow and review! Your reviews make my day you guys!**


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